Chapter 539
Chapter 539
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 539
Chapter Title: Ticklish Breakthrough
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1.
There had been witches who'd come willingly, and others who hadn't, but up to now, I'd bedded a great many of them.
To be honest, I took a certain pride in it.
Pride in my impressive endowment—something any man could boast about—and in having shared beds with countless beauties who could serve as a lifelong bragging right for even a single conquest.
They say you appreciate good meat only after you've tasted it, and unlike my virgin days, my technique had sharpened considerably. I was confident I could melt any ordinary woman like sugar in my mouth.
So the scene before me now brought not arousal, but bewilderment and embarrassment stemming from this utterly unforeseen situation.
"Kyaaak...! T-Tickles...! Kyahahaha...!"
Lurye was laughing hysterically now, as if she could hold it in no longer.
At a glance, it looked like someone was tickling her sides mercilessly, but this reaction was purely from licking her nipples with my tongue.
"Kyahaha...!"
Lurye shoved Si-woo away with both hands under his chin, then clutched her breasts while giggling uncontrollably, "Kyururuk, kyururuk."
What the hell?
I hadn't deviated from the script at all.
Everyone knows from porn that women love skilled, aggressive caresses with rough hands and tongue work.
But Takasho, with his AV crew experience, had taught me that was half acting, half the result of jaded pro actresses.
He, who'd slept with nearly a thousand women of all types, said the ultimate aphrodisiac to melt a woman was gentle foreplay—especially for an inexperienced virgin.
My own experiences lined up with that, more or less.
With Lurye laid out, forbidding any touch below the waist, I'd started soft, kissing her nape like tender flesh.
At first, I thought it was just my imagination, but her body temperature seemed a good 3 or 4 degrees lower than a normal person's.
Feeling that cool skin, I'd slowly worked my way down to her breasts.
"Haa... haa... Y-You made me laugh so much... my stomach hurts..."
Up to that point, I'd taken her heavy breathing ruffling my hair and her frail body trembling as signs of pleasure—or some novel erotic sensation.
But the reality was the opposite.
After rolling around in my mouth for ages, Lurye's nipples were just a bit moistened, not hardening at all.
And her reactions seemed more about ticklishness than pleasure.
"Didn't you say you have a lover?"
Lurye looked at Si-woo, eyes teary from laughing.
"Your foreplay isn't all that impressive, it seems."
I was flustered.
No matter that I couldn't touch below the waist—this ineffective?
Plus, though unintentional, her remark that it "wasn't all that impressive" stabbed right at a man's pride.
Wasn't that basically saying, "I thought you'd be good since you dated a lot, but you're not"?
I closed my eyes and chanted inwardly.
Takasho! Give me strength!
Countless tales from my slave days.
The answer had to be in there.
But...
"Sorry, this is as far as I go. From here, it's your path, Si-woo."
Takasho just flashed his annoyingly shiny teeth and vanished.
This was a unique case that matched nothing.
The closest was frigidity.
A congenital insensitivity to sexual stimuli—even the great Takasho had only bitter failures to recall.
But she was super ticklish, yet felt no sexual sensation?
That didn't add up.
"Well, you've amused us plenty. We are busy with affairs of state. Tomorrow, preparations for the trial begin."
As Lurye moved to leave, my brain raced desperately.
Squeezing my head like this just for one fuck—it was a first.
I felt like I was losing my mind.
"Ah..."
And then enlightenment struck.
Si-woo spoke calmly.
"Could we change locations?"
2.
We arrived in Lurye's bedroom.
Among the world's famous novelty hotels, there's that glass underwater one, but compared to this in sheer extravagance, it wouldn't hold a candle.
Using special alchemy, the ceiling—dome-shaped—the walls all transparently displayed the deep sea vista, a hyper-luxury room impossible with modern science.
Of course, it was too dark to see anything.
In the dim glow of a bedside lamp, Lurye lay comfortably in her panties, just like before.
Propped on a pillow as big as her upper body, she tapped the bed with her heels.
"I don't want to exceed fifteen minutes."
She'd cast Inish first, and already her interest seemed to wane.
"Yes. But could you promise me one thing in return?"
"Promise?"
"Forgive my impertinence, but I'll bind Your Majesty's arms and legs. Please follow my lead no matter what."
"Ah, that binding thing?"
She nodded as if recalling porn she'd seen, thought a moment, then replied.
"No hardship there. Seeing your desperate effort makes me inclined to indulge a bit."
With permission, Si-woo pulled out a ribbon.
The ship had mana tentacles retrofitted by the previous Nucelabi snaking everywhere, altering ambient mana flow with every breath.
Magic use was disrupted, but her bedroom—attached to her research workshop—was exempt.
To avoid interfering with magic studies.
He easily bound and secured her arms and legs.
"Quite firm."
Lurye watched Si-woo's doings with an innocent expression.
A spark of returning interest—good news.
"I ask you swear on your honor to keep your promise. Let me have free rein."
Seeing him confirm twice, did she sense this was no trifle?
After deliberation, Lurye answered.
"I don't know your scheme, but I hate pain. No whips or hot wax."
"Nothing like that."
"Then, I permit it. Hm? Why cover the eyes?"
"You'll see soon enough."
With her arms and legs tied to the massive bedposts and blindfold on, Si-woo drew a long, thick brown feather.
Witches favored quill or fountain pens.
Lurye was no exception; fine quills adorned her table in multiples.
From the extinct "Huiya" bird—pricey, favored by vain witches.
A surer, better item lurked in the warehouse, but too extreme for a first-timer like Lurye; it'd feel criminal.
First, he lightly brushed the feather's soft tip along her nape.
"Eek!"
Lurye jolted like electrocuted, flapping wildly.
Her blindfold hid it, but her mouth corners curved up high.
Soon twisting in dismay.
"Wh-What is that! It tickles!"
"A feather."
"N-No way—you plan to tickle me for fifteen minutes straight? You want me dead?"
"Didn't you swear on your honor?"
"Th-That was..."
Her rash words and curiosity had backed her into a corner.
Remove the blindfold, and she'd glare murderously.
But this was just the start.
What use in explaining?
Lurye acted like she felt no sexual sensation at all.
My breakthrough for her: "tickling."
Sensorily, she seemed hyper-sensitive.
Earlier in 69, even from afar, my breath had tickled her.
Now, a mere nape brush with the feather convulsed her near-epileptically.
So why no reaction to foreplay?
Shockingly, she harbored zero sexual awareness.
Innocence, or isolation in a strict no-man zone—either way, she wasn't even embarrassed naked.
Embarrassment is paradoxically vital fertilizer for sexual development.
Realizing you're baring your body to the opposite sex, letting them suck your nipples—that raw awareness spins the silken thread of pleasure.
Devoid of it, Lurye dismissed all erotic stimuli as mere tickles.
No matter how I heated up alone, she'd just think, "What're you doing?"
To make her feel it without touching below—insanely tough.
But tickling? Different story.
She undeniably felt it, and it ties closely to sexual excitement.
How many times had Sharon and I tickled each other during cohabitation, only to tumble into bed?
Start as tickles, but with right tempo and touch, I was sure it'd unlock Lurye's hidden sexuality.
Gently stroking her underbust, sides, back with the feather.
"Eek! Kyahaha...! St-Stop...! My Prime Minister...! Please stop...!"
She thrashed madly, but limbs bound, honor sworn—she couldn't break free.
Plus, feather as tickle-optimized tool, eyes blind— she couldn't predict targets, amplifying clarity.
Meanwhile, one hand rested firmly on her thigh.
Emphasizing contact's reality.
"Shin Si-woo...! Wh-When this... kyahaha! Fifteen minutes...! After, I'll exile you...!"
"Yes, yes, understood."
"Uhihihik...!"
Lurye laughed till she choked.
But Si-woo keenly observed her responses.
Instinctual timing.
Now.
The feather's pointed tip slyly teased her deep, elongated navel.
"Hik...!"
In that instant, her abdomen tensed, clenching tight.
The waterfall laughter halted; she gulped like something stuck in her throat.
Lurye's mouth stiffened.
Clear dismay leaked from her lips.
Just past ten minutes.
"Now, the real start."
Fanfare exploded in my head, heralding the plan's smooth prelude.